The Short Fuse
by dust on the wind
Summary: All Carter had to do was build a fake bomb and get it into the middle of the compound. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own any of the characters from the series Hogan's Heroes. __Some parts of the following story are transcribed from "A Klink, a Bomb, and a Short Fuse" (Series 2)._

* * *

_"Carter, __how long would it take you to make a bomb?"_

_"Well, gee, I don't know. I'd have to fix up some kind of explosive..."_

_"I don't mean a real bomb. I mean one that looks like a bomb, ticks like a bomb, but doesn't go off like a bomb."_

It should have been easy. All Carter had to do was dummy up a bomb casing, fill it with whatever bits of junk he had lying around, fit some kind of ticking mechanism and get it out into the middle of the prison yard for the guards to find. And somehow, he'd still managed to mess it up. Again. Or so he told himself, as the dust began to clear.

He raised his head slowly. When the first crack of breaking timber had alerted him to the impending tunnel collapse - they all knew and dreaded that sound - he had reacted instinctively by throwing his body across the bomb, to protect it. Which was just stupid; it wasn't like it was a real bomb, after all.

Come to think of it, trying to shield a real bomb would have been even dumber.

Carter coughed as some of the dust got into his throat, and then squinted around, trying to make out how bad things were. Through the lingering haze he could see a few weirdly reddish patches of light, where some of the lamps around the walls were still burning in spite of the disaster. Behind him, the way to the radio room, and the barracks above, was blocked by a massive tumble of earth, with splintered timbers poking through the surface. The side tunnel leading to the recreation hall appeared to be inaccessible, and the emergency tunnel didn't look promising, either.

"Oh, boy," he said aloud, and his voice sounded very small in the enclosed space around him.

_They're __going to be so mad at me_, he thought.

Of course, he knew the cave-in wasn't his fault. Probably the structure of the tunnel had been weakened by last night's bombing raid, which had been very close. That was what had given the colonel his brilliant idea, to distract the Krauts by planting a phoney bomb in the middle of the compound so they would forget to monitor the radio transmissions from the tunnel. Which would have given Kinch enough time to contact London by radio and send them the new German code they'd been at such pains to get hold of.

And now it had all been blown out of the water, because Carter had taken so long to get the ticking sound just right. For Pete's sake, it was only a fake bomb, it didn't have to be perfect. If only he'd gotten it done half an hour earlier...

"Carter? Are you okay?"

It was Kinch's voice, muffled by the debris which lay between them. Carter took a deep breath, choked as the dust hit his lungs, and started coughing again.

"I'm okay, Kinch," he croaked, as soon as he could speak.

"Where are you?"

Carter peered around. "Just by the workshop, and the recreation hall tunnel."

"Can you get out that way?"

"Not a chance. Emergency tunnel, maybe, but I'd have to dig, and I got nothing to prop it with."

"Don't even try," said Kinch sharply. "You could bring the whole lot down on your head. Just stay where you are, we'll get you out from this side."

"Hey, Kinch?" Carter's voice faltered. He hated having to admit to another failure. "I didn't get the phoney bomb into the yard. I was just on my way out with it when..."

"Never mind that, Carter. As long as you're not hurt, that's the main thing. We'll come up with something else. Stay there, and we'll have you out before you know it."

At least Kinch wasn't mad at him; that was something.

There was a standard procedure for this situation. Carter went round his prison, extinguishing all but one of the lamps to preserve air quality; then he sat down next to the bomb, and prepared for what he expected would be a long wait.

Kinch headed up to the barracks, more concerned than he had let on. A tunnel collapse was always a serious business; it left the rest of the structure unstable, and a second roof fall could be fatal for anyone unable to get out. And that wasn't even allowing for the risk of suffocation, if the air flow was completely cut off. He wasn't sure how much space Carter had around him, but from his knowledge of the layout, he suspected it wasn't much, so they might not have a lot of time.

He emerged from the tunnel but stayed on the ladder, brushing the dirt from his sleeves. "Where's Colonel Hogan?" he demanded tersely.

"Schultz came and got him a little while ago," replied LeBeau.

"What's up?" Newkirk, looking out of the window, didn't even turn his head.

"Part of the tunnel collapsed. Carter's trapped down there. He was just coming up with the phoney bomb."

That got Newkirk's attention. He turned from the window, the look of disbelief on his face matched by the expression on LeBeau's. "Carter's in the tunnel with the bomb?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what's that bomb in the yard?"

"Bomb...?" Kinch stared at him, then ascended a couple of extra rungs to reach the window.

There was a bomb out there, all right. He could see Colonel Hogan, standing less than two feet away from it, his expression of calm amusement at odds with the anxiety displayed by the Kommandant and Sergeant Schultz, and the peevishness which was General Burkhalter's usual response to any situation which brought him into contact with Kommandant Klink. Kinch moved back again, appalled. "That's a real one."

His spatial awareness was very precise, and it took him barely five seconds to assess the position of the bomb, relative to the network of tunnels below the camp. He didn't mention it to the others; no point in giving them anything extra to worry about at this stage. Anyway, it wouldn't take either of them long, once they got underground, to work out it for themselves.

Kinch made a snap decision. There was nothing he could do to assist Hogan right now. "Come on, let's dig Carter out."

"Cor blimey, what a mess!" Newkirk, reaching the bottom of the ladder, gazed in shock at the confusion in the radio room. Whether the explosions overnight had caused it, or the vibrations from the collapse further on, something had brought the shelving on the wall crashing onto the desk, followed by a large quantity of earth from overhead. "What about the radio?"

"I'll tell you when we find it," replied Kinch grimly. "Right now, it's the least of our worries. But even if Carter had managed to get the fake bomb into the yard, we couldn't have sent the code anyway."

"Is he hurt?" LeBeau asked.

"He says not. But if there's a second cave-in, he's in real trouble."

Kinch still didn't mention exactly where Carter was, but as he led the way he heard a startled exclamation from LeBeau, as he suddenly realised where they were going. "_Mais..._"

Almost at the same instant, Newkirk broke in. "Kinch, he's right below..."

"Yeah, I know," Kinch interrupted both of them. "He's directly under that bomb. We need to get him out, fast. But we'll have to be careful; if we go at it too hard, and there's another collapse, the shock could set off the bomb and take out Colonel Hogan as well as Carter."

"It'll take out the whole bloody lot of us, if it goes," muttered Newkirk, but with no indication he was thinking of retreating.

At sight of the mass of earth, stones and timbers blocking the way, he was dumbstruck; when he finally regained his faculties, the first word he uttered was not one he'd learned from his mother.

"It will take us hours to dig through that," whispered LeBeau, staring at it.

Kinch was studying the obstruction. "There's been another fall," he said suddenly; then, raising his voice. "Carter, can you hear me?"

There was no answering call. Not a sound was heard but the soft intermittent trickle of moving soil.


	2. Chapter 2

Kinch turned to the others. "Shovels," he said tersely.

They dug for several minutes, working at one end of the barrier, before LeBeau suddenly hushed them. "Carter?" he called.

"That you, LeBeau?" Carter's voice was higher pitched than usual. "Some more of the roof came down. Boy, was I scared."

"Okay, Andrew," said Kinch. "We're digging as fast as we can. Just stay calm."

"That's easy for you to say," replied Carter crossly.

Kinch didn't reply; he was scrutinising the barrier again. "I don't know about this," he murmured. "A lot of that stuff up there looks really loose; one wrong move and the whole lot's going to fall in. Maybe it would be better..."

He moved closer to where they had been digging. A couple of roof beams had fallen against each other, holding up the fall of earth above them and creating a narrow opening in the barrier which allowed sound to pass back and forth. "Carter, you still there?"

He knew it was a stupid question, as soon as he spoke, and Carter answered it as it deserved: "Sure, Kinch, where else would I be?"

Kinch hesitated. He didn't like this, but with the immediate danger he now knew was overhead, it was starting to look like the best way out. "You know how I told you not to use the emergency tunnel? Well, I was wrong. You better give it a try."

There was a pause before Carter replied. "I don't know, Kinch. There's a lot of dirt down there."

"Okay, Carter, I know, but just go and have a look, at least."

"And what am I supposed to do once I get out?" Carter was beginning to sound annoyed. "I'll be right outside the wire. What's everybody going to think?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" interrupted Newkirk. "Carter, just get your arse out through that emergency tunnel. Now."

An even longer pause.

"Guys...what's wrong?" said Carter.

Kinch sent an exasperated glance at Newkirk. "Nice going," he whispered. Then, raising his voice. "Carter, we didn't want to worry you. But you have to get out of there, fast. Our planes left a surprise package in the yard last night. A live bomb. And it's right over your head."

It had been getting uncomfortably warm in the confined space on the other side of the wall of earth, and in spite of the circumstances Carter had started feeling sleepy. That piece of information brought him wide awake, and sent a chill through him.

"A live bomb?" he stammered.

"Yeah. And it's going to take too long to dig you out from this side. You better take the emergency tunnel. But be careful."

Carter started towards the tunnel, then stopped, as something occurred to him. "Hey, Kinch? Why aren't you sending the code to London? I mean, seeing there's a bomb in the yard, just like we planned...well, not _exactly_ just like we planned, but..."

"Carter, never mind about the code. Just get out of there."

"But, Kinch, we spent ages getting hold of that code, and this is the perfect chance..."

"It would be, if the radio wasn't smashed," muttered Newkirk. Unfortunately his voice was the kind that carried easily. Carter heard every word.

"Oh, boy," he said, leaning on the bomb. "This is all my fault."

"Newkirk, why don't you keep your big mouth shut?" hissed LeBeau.

Kinch tried to keep his voice level. "How do you figure that, Carter?"

"Oh, come on! You know I messed up, forgetting to put the film in the camera. If we'd gotten the pictures the first time we tried, London would have the code by now."

"He's right, you know," whispered Newkirk.

"Sure I'm right." Carter had heard him again. LeBeau glared at Newkirk, who held up his hands in apology.

"Look, Carter, there's nothing we can do about it now," said Kinch.

"Well, sure there is. What about that old radio you were fixing up for the Underground? Isn't it working yet?"

"Oh, yes, it's working," Kinch's voice had taken on an edge. "I was testing it just last night, in the workshop. Which is right next to where you are."

"Well..." Carter glanced doubtfully towards the small cubby-hole where repairs to equipment were carried out. "Well, what if I get it going, and send the code from in here?"

"Couple of problems, Carter. First, it's not connected to the antenna, so it hasn't got the range, and second, the photos of the code book are all on this side of the cave-in. And third, in case you forgot, there's a bomb right above it."

The logic of Kinch's reply seemed inarguable. Carter slumped against his own bomb again. For a few moments, he gazed up at the mass of earth, illuminated by the flicker of the last remaining lamp, which lay between him and the others. Then he straightened up, and went closer to the barrier.

"Hey, Kinch," he called. "There must be some gaps in the dirt here, right? Because I can hear you guys okay."

"Carter, stop wasting time," said Kinch, in a tone which gave an accurate measure of how little patience he had remaining.

"No, but this could work, Kinch. What if you run a wire through one of the holes, and connect it to the antenna, and I fix it to the radio in here?"

"What good would that do? You still don't have the code."

"We'll think of something. Come on, Kinch, if we don't do it now, it could be days before we get another chance."

Newkirk started to speak, then stopped, remembering how well his voice travelled down here, but the others knew what he was thinking. Carter had a good point there. Not good enough, as far as Kinch was concerned.

"Then it'll have to be days. Don't make me say it again, Carter. Get out of there."

Carter hesitated, then said diffidently, "You know, Kinch, strictly speaking, I don't have to take orders from you. And I'm not going anywhere till we get that code sent to London."

Kinch exchanged a stupefied look with Newkirk. In all the time Carter had been at Stalag 13, never once had he even hinted at pulling rank, until now. "Andrew..." Kinch began, then stopped, breathed in, let it out again. "Fine. One problem at a time."

"Shouldn't we let Colonel Hogan know?" whispered LeBeau.

"I think the colonel's got enough to worry about," observed Newkirk dourly. "He's got a bomb to deal with."

"Which he doesn't know yet is a real one," LeBeau snapped back. "He could set it off by accident."

The same thought had been worrying Kinch for some time now. "LeBeau's right," he said. "I'll go and tell him. You figure out how to feed that wire through to Carter."

He left them to it, and ascended to the barracks.

"You know what, LeBeau?" grumbled Newkirk fiercely, as he started excavating again. "If I get out of this alive, and Carter gets out of this alive, I'll wring his ruddy neck."

"I can still hear you, Newkirk," came the slightly miffed reply from the other side of the barrier.


	3. Chapter 3

The compound was deserted, except for the small group huddled around the bomb. Burkhalter had already made a strategic withdrawal.

Even at a distance, Kinch could tell Hogan was enjoying himself. He hated to spoil the colonel's fun, but he had no choice. He braced himself, and went to break the bad news.

"Colonel Hogan, can I speak to you a minute?"

"He's busy," growled Klink, without looking up.

Hogan contradicted him at once. "I'm never too busy to talk to my men. Here, hold that." He handed Klink a random component he'd just fished out from within the metal casing, before standing up and moving away to give Kinch his full attention

"Hi, Kinch. We've got this bomb here we're disarming," he drawled, with a grin. "A real live one."

Kinch proceeded to set him straight. "That's exactly what you've got. A real live bomb." He registered the change in Hogan's expression, and hurried on. "We had a cave-in, and Carter's trapped in the tunnel with the fake one."

"That's a real live bomb? You mean I've been fooling around with a live bomb?" For once, Hogan was thrown completely off balance. "Let's get out of here."

As he started to retreat, Kinch held him back. There was still worse news to be delivered. "The only trouble is, the part of the tunnel that Carter's in is right under this bomb."

"Well, get him out of there."

"We've been digging, but he won't leave. Not until he finishes sending the new code on the radio."

"Oh, boy." Hogan didn't hesitate; no more than any of the others could he leave Carter in the lurch. But he was not happy, and Kinch was going to know all about it. "I'll tell you one thing," he said, his voice trembling with indignation, "you've just taken all the fun out of this job."

He went back to deal with the bomb, and Kinch returned to the tunnel. Some progress had been made, but he shuddered inwardly as he assessed the situation. The collapse had occurred close to a junction point, where the main passage divided, branching off towards the recreation hall in one direction, and the emergency exit in the woods in the other. As all the tunnels were weak at such places, they were always shored up with particular care. It should have been enough to support the earth above, but instead it had created a nightmare tangle of broken timber amongst the soil and stones which blocked Carter's escape.

"The worst of it is, some of those beams are still holding up the rest of the ceiling," said Newkirk, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "If we try to take any of 'em out, the whole lot's going to drop. I told Carter not to touch anything on his side, but he's not listening."

Kinch sighed. "He sure picked a fine time to remember who outranks who around here. Have you got the cable ready?"

"Not yet. I daren't leave while LeBeau's up there."

They were concentrating on the upper left-hand corner of the obstruction, where sounds seemed to pass most easily from one side to the other. As the mini-tunnel - hardly more than a wormhole, really - neared the other side, a ladder had been placed against the unstable mass below, both to brace against it falling, and to give access to the excavation. LeBeau, being the smallest, had constituted himself digger-in-chief; he had crawled into the opening as it deepened, while Newkirk had remained below, keeping the ladder steady, receiving buckets of earth as they were filled, and trying to work out how the hell he'd get LeBeau out of there if anything went wrong.

Kinch raced away to the chaos of the radio room to organise the wire which would connect the spare radio to the antenna. It took some time. Just as he returned, LeBeau came out feet first, descending amid a downflow of soil and pebbles into the outstretched arms of his two comrades. "We're through," he panted. "I can just get my arm far enough. Give me the cable, quickly. Carter's standing on a chair to reach from his end. If anything happens, he could get buried."

_As opposed to being blown to kingdom come_, thought Kinch. Tough choice. He pressed the end of the cable into LeBeau's hand, and helped Newkirk to boost the Frenchman back up to the opening.

LeBeau hardly breathed as he crawled back into the narrow space; the alternative, he had already discovered, was hyperventilation, followed by light-headedness and rising panic. He inched towards the other side of the barrier, keeping his arms stretched forward in order to avoid getting them stuck between his body and the walls.

He couldn't see where he was going, but he heard Carter's voice, quite close: "LeBeau? Is that you?"

LeBeau hadn't enough air in his lungs to answer him.

Two lengths of timber, crossing at almost right angles and completely immovable, blocked his way, near Carter's end of the opening. Getting as close as he could, LeBeau stretched his arm between them, with the cable clutched in his hand. He felt Carter's fingers brush against his own, then he heard a scrabbling sound, and a startled gasp from the far side of the barrier. LeBeau let go of the wire, and began wriggling back, as the noise of a further collapse filled his ears. He thought he wouldn't make it; but someone grabbed his legs and dragged him out. Between them, Kinch and Newkirk hauled him free, before scrambling to get away from the immediate danger zone.

In the yard above, Colonel Hogan felt, or thought he felt, a tremor in the surface underneath him. His hands ceased their delicate manoeuvring inside the bomb casing, and he held his breath for a few seconds.

"What was that?" murmured Schultz.

"What was what?" Klink hadn't even noticed; his whole attention was focused on the instrument of destruction in front of him.

Hogan swallowed, and began work again. He had no way of knowing what had just happened, or whether Carter, or any of the others, might be..._no, don't think about it. Just get on with the job at hand_.

Directly below, Carter remained curled up against the side wall for some time, listening to the haphazard noises made by the debris behind him as it found its new level. It required a substantial effort of will to lift his head, open his eyes and look around. He wished at once that he hadn't. Within the last two minutes, he seemed to have lost about a third of his available space. The emergency tunnel was no longer an option; he wasn't even sure any more where it was.

He got to his feet, very slowly. His fall from the chair, which had thrown him against one of the surviving roof supports and precipitated the latest disaster, had left him both badly shaken and seriously bruised.

"LeBeau?" he called tentatively. "Louis...?" There was no response.

"Okay," Carter told himself. "Don't panic, Andrew. Just keep calm." His voice shook so much that it frightened him. If he'd just gone and got LeBeau buried...

He took a deep breath to try to steady himself. Then he realised he was still clutching the end of the radio cable. He looked up to where it vanished into the mass of soil in front of him, then gave it a cautious tug. It resisted slightly, so he pulled harder, and began to draw it through.

Best if he kept himself occupied. He would get the radio ready, so the code could be sent as soon as the guys figured out how to get it to him. He had no idea whether there was anyone still at the other end of the wire, but at least it gave him something to do, some task to keep his mind from acknowledging the fear which was now just below the surface of his awareness, waiting to take over.

_There's nobody left out there, and I'm never going to get out..._


	4. Chapter 4

"Is everyone okay?" asked Kinch, his voice thickened by the dust he'd swallowed.

He straightened up from the crouching position he had fallen into, and turned to see what fresh damage had occurred. The place where LeBeau had been working was still visible, with the radio cable emerging from it to fall in coils on the floor.

Newkirk helped LeBeau to his feet. The Frenchman had ended up underneath the other two, and was slightly winded, but somehow none of them had been hurt.

"What about Carter?" said Newkirk. He came up beside Kinch, and stared at the collapse; then, raising his voice, "Andrew? Can you hear me?"

There was no response, only the soft whispering of the soil as it settled. Kinch held his breath, the better to hear any sound, no matter how slight, and LeBeau crept forward and put one hand on the earth wall as if he thought his fingers might detect Carter's answering call.

Nothing. For several seconds, nothing at all.

Then the wire gave a twitch, and began to unwind as it was drawn through the barrier towards the other side.

Three separate gasps of relief sounded at once. Newkirk darted forward, and picked up the ladder from where it had fallen, propping it against the mass of debris. As he ascended, with more haste than care, Kinch ran to steady him. The last thing they needed was another accident.

Newkirk took a deep breath, and called as loudly as he could. "Carter!"

The cable stopped moving. He leaned as far forward as he could, eyes screwed shut in concentration as he listened. Kinch and LeBeau waited tensely.

"I can hear him," said Newkirk after a few seconds.

On the other side, Carter was struggling to regain his composure. He had thrown himself at the barrier on hearing Newkirk's voice; for just a couple of minutes, he had been convinced that LeBeau was buried, that they all were, and that he was completely alone. He leaned against the unstable mass, his face buried in his hands as he got himself under control again. Then he scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked up. He could still see the opening in the surface at the top of the barrier, just where the wire came through. He gripped the cable and gave it a firm tug, and was rewarded with a shower of dirt, and a visible shifting of the entire mass, followed by an irritable "Bloody hell, Carter!" from beyond.

"Sorry," he called back.

Something within the barrier must have been jerked loose, because the fall of earth continued for some time, a slow, relentless accompaniment to the conversation.

"You alright, Andrew, old son?" Newkirk's voice was now much clearer; the obstruction within LeBeau's mini-tunnel seemed to have cleared with that sudden yanking of the cable.

"Yeah." Not quite true, but close enough. He didn't bother telling Newkirk about the loss of the emergency tunnel. He wanted to ask about LeBeau, but he didn't. He knew Louis must be okay; Newkirk would be absolutely frantic if he wasn't. But still, Carter didn't ask, just in case...

He tried to concentrate on the task he'd set himself: "I've nearly got the radio connected."

"A lot of good that'll do," muttered Kinch. "The code's still on this side, and after what just happened, there's no way I'm letting LeBeau crawl through there again."

Newkirk sighed. "I've been thinking about that," he said, very quietly. "There's no help for it. I'll have to read it out to him through the gap."

There was a moment of silence as Kinch considered the suggestion; a longer silence while he factored in the risk. "That could work," he admitted. "But I'll do it. You and LeBeau get some of the others and go see if you can reach Carter through the recreation hall tunnel."

"Begging your pardon, Kinch, but you've got it wrong," observed Newkirk, with a tilt of the head and a rueful smile. "Because we already know my voice carries better down here than yours. So I'll stay here, and you and LeBeau can go and start work in the rec. hall."

"Newkirk..." began Kinch, but LeBeau interrupted him.

"He's right, Kinch. If someone is to stay, it should be him." His voice was quite steady, but the expression on his face, as he looked up at the still-moving surface of the earthfall, gave him away.

"Glad you see it my way, LeBeau, me old chum," said Newkirk, in a would-be cheerful tone. "Now, just fetch those photos of the code book, and then nip over and dig Carter out of there."

LeBeau ran off to the radio room to find the prints.

"You know I could make it an order, Newkirk." Kinch spoke very softly.

"I know that. You won't, though, because you know I'm right."

"Yeah." Kinch looked at the mass of earth again. "I wonder if he's got any idea how much trouble he's landed us all in?"

With a half-smile, Newkirk shook his head. "Kinch, he probably hasn't even given it a thought."

He was mistaken. If Carter hadn't realised previously, the latest collapse had brought home to him how dangerous the situation had become, not just for himself, but for everyone concerned. He soon finished attaching the wire to the radio, and was ready to start sending the code as soon as he had it in his hands. But his resolve had been as badly bruised as his body in that last fall.

He limped back to the barrier. "You there, Kinch?"

Newkirk's voice answered. "Just me, Carter. Kinch and LeBeau have gone to the recreation hall, to start digging there. They'll probably pop out behind you any minute."

"Yeah, sure." Carter had no expectation of ever seeing them, but at least they'd be safer there than here. "Maybe you should go and give them a hand."

His heart sank as he spoke. The thought of being left alone, without any human voice to keep him company, filled him with dread. He leaned against the side wall of the tunnel, his breathing slightly laboured.

The reply to his suggestion came quickly, and was uncompromising. "Not a chance."

"But..."

Newkirk interrupted him ruthlessly. "Look, you wanted to get this bleedin' code to London, didn't you? Well, I've got it right here. Now, you get on that radio, and start sending it as I read it to you."

Carter shook his head. "You can't..."

"Well, how else are we supposed to manage, Carter? You're on that side, the code's on this side."

"Well, maybe..." Carter's voice wavered. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, after all. Maybe we should just give up for now. You guys'll think of something else."

_You guys._ Newkirk took note of that, and his voice sharpened with anxiety as he replied. "Carter, after all we've gone through to get that flipping radio working, if you turn around and lose interest now, I swear I'll..."

"You won't," Carter snapped back, "because you can't reach me."

"Oh, I'll reach you, all right. Don't you worry about that."

Neither of them spoke for half a minute, while the earth between them continued its tiny irregular movements.

"Listen, Andrew," said Newkirk at last, "I'm not leaving till you do. So we might as well keep ourselves busy, and get this code sent to London."

He was more nervous than he let on, as he waited for the reply. In general Carter gave in to any stronger will than his own, but occasionally he turned stubborn, as he had earlier. And if that happened, nothing would shift him.

Carter remained where he was for a few moments. Then he straightened up, and went to the radio. He'd set it up beneath the only available light, the one lamp which remained burning. With a shaking hand, he switched it on.

"Okay," he said. "Let's get on with it."


	5. Chapter 5

For some time now, the thought of the live bomb in the yard, and the possibility of another cave-in, had no longer been Kinch's only concerns. There was something else, an insidious, long-term threat which would soon come into effect. Even though there were air pockets in the earthfall, there was no flow-through, no real ventilation, and no way for the buildup of carbon dioxide to be cleared. It wasn't yet a major risk, but the longer Carter was imprisoned, the worse it was going to get.

In spite of this, Kinch took time to inspect the obstruction of the recreation hall tunnel with due care. They'd already taken more chances than they should, back in the main tunnel. If they messed up in here, not only might they risk serious injury to the rescue party, but they could lose all hope of reaching Carter at all. With LeBeau behind him hopping impatiently from one foot to the other, he looked over the whole situation before speaking.

Just soil; no great jagged spikes of wood to deal with. It was manageable.

"Okay," said Kinch. "Three men at a time, digging; the rest moving the earth out. Pack it into sandbags and stack them outside the back wall of the building. The guards are nearly all hiding behind their barracks waiting for the bomb to go off, so they won't notice. Be careful about shoring up. One more collapse, and we can forget about getting Carter out of there."

In the main tunnel, the noise of shifting earth seemed to have died away, or so Carter thought anyway. He was completely focused on the sound of Newkirk's voice as he read out the German code; it almost felt as if he was detached from himself, watching from a distance while someone else tapped out the message on the Morse transmitter. It was a weird sensation, and he didn't like it, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it.

Newkirk's voice was getting ragged; the gritty atmosphere down here was doing him no good at all. He cleared his throat, and took a long drink of water from the canteen LeBeau had left with him. He knew he wasn't getting through as clearly as he had been, and he hadn't heard Carter speak for some minutes.

"You okay there, Andrew?" he called.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Carter sounded very distant. It was worrying.

In the yard, the disarming process had reached the critical point. With great care, Hogan reached into the bomb casing and drew out the part he had been looking for.

"Is that the fuse?" whispered Klink, peering over his shoulder.

"Uh-huh." Hogan was perspiring, but not from the heat of the sun. He leaned his head back to allow Schultz to wipe the sweat from his forehead; his voice was scarcely audible as he thanked the sergeant.

He held out his hand. "Wire cutters."

Klink quickly handed him the required tool.

"What are you waiting for?" he demanded impatiently a few seconds later, as Hogan seemed lost in thought. "Cut the wire."

"That's the problem," replied Hogan, studying the two wires, one black, one white. "One of these wires disconnects the fuse, the other one fires the bomb."

He was breathing faster than normal.

"Which one would you cut, Schultz?"

Schultz looked as if he'd just been asked to decide whether he'd rather be drowned or hanged. "Don't ask me," he stammered. "This is a decision for an officer."

The perfect non-com; he never took responsibility for anything. No wonder he was still a sergeant.

"Alright," sighed Hogan, turning to his other companion. "Which wire, Colonel Klink?"

The Kommandant's face seemed to grow longer. He hesitated, then pointed at the white wire. "This one."

Hogan delicately took the wire between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it slightly. "You're sure?"

For a moment, Klink seemed about to change his mind; then he answered, abruptly and with unusual determination. "Yes."

Hogan didn't say a word. He raised the cutters toward the wire. Klink tensed; Schultz closed his eyes. The blades closed towards the wire, and Hogan turned his face away.

For a brief eternity all three men waited for the explosion. Klink was the first to relax, his shoulders dropping and an expression of offended exasperation crossing his face as he realised what Hogan had just done. The wire he had indicated was intact; at the last second, Hogan had changed line, and snipped the black one instead.

The cutters clanked harmlessly against the bomb casing as they fell from Hogan's hand onto the ground.

"If you knew which wire it was," said Klink, in a low, indignant voice, "why did you ask me?"

For once, Hogan couldn't be bothered playing games. He answered the Kommandant as frankly as if he were speaking to one of his own men. "I wasn't sure which was the right one. But I was certain you'd pick the wrong one."

He drew back, and got wearily to his feet. "The rest can wait for your bomb disposal guys. Excuse me, Kommandant. I think I need to lie down."

Ignoring Klink's protest, he headed off toward the barracks, but he had no intention of resting. He had been deeply concerned ever since he felt that momentary vibration beneath the ground. He had to know what was going on.

At first there was no detectable human sound in the tunnel, and his heart rate jumped as the possibilities danced around in his mind. Then, as he neared the area below the centre of the compound, he became aware of a voice. Newkirk; and he sounded quite calm.

Hogan rounded a curve in the tunnel, and stopped dead, gazing dumbstruck at the mass of earth in front of him. Then he shook his head, and walked to where Newkirk, standing on the top rung of a short ladder, was talking slowly into some kind of gap in the barrier.

The movement caught Newkirk's eye, and he turned his head. A smile swept across his face.

"Carter," he said, "this isn't part of the code. Just thought you'd like to know, there's one less thing to worry about. The bomb won't be going off."

Hogan couldn't hear the reply, but he didn't like the sound of Newkirk's voice; it was getting distinctly rough. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Long story, Colonel. But the short version is, Carter's in there, with the radio; I'm out here with the code. Everyone else is under the recreation hall, digging." His voice cracked, and he coughed.

The explanation, though brief, was clear enough. Hogan held out his hand. "Give that to me," he said. "I'll finish it, Newkirk. Get out of here."

Newkirk shrugged, and descended from his perch, letting Hogan take his place; but he made no move towards the barracks. "Told him I'd stay as long as he was down here," he explained huskily. "From the top of that page, sir."

Carter scarcely noticed the change in voice. He was tired, he ached all over, and his entire concentration was needed to understand the code and transmit it with accuracy. Completely immersed in the task, he had lost any sense of time and place, and the faint sounds made by the rescue party working in the tunnel behind him made no impression at all.

"That's it, Carter. You can sign off now."

Well, that didn't make any sense. It wasn't like any code he'd ever heard before.

"Sorry, Newkirk. Could you repeat that last bit?"

"There is no more, Carter. You can sign off."

They'd done it. In spite of the cave-in, the loss of the radio, and the bomb just above, they'd managed to get the code to London. Carter ended the transmission, and switched off the radio, then folded his arms on top of it and laid his head down on them.

"Carter? You still with us? Talk to me." It suddenly dawned on him; that wasn't Newkirk, it was Colonel Hogan. Carter knew he should answer. The colonel would be real mad if he didn't. But he just couldn't find the energy.

"Carter! Come on, André. Wake up." That wasn't Newkirk, either. Because Newkirk was on the other side of the collapse, so it must be someone else who was shaking his arm, and shouting in his ear.

"Quit it, LeBeau," he muttered, and tried to swat the irritating presence away. But it wouldn't go. Then someone grasped his shoulders and lifted him up, and he felt a light slapping against his cheek. He blinked, and tried to focus.

"Kinch...?"

"Yeah, it's me. Can you stand, Carter? We don't want to hang around."

Carter looked past him, towards the recreation hall tunnel, which had been so effectively blocked. There was a narrow opening there now. The excavation party had wasted no time; they'd got through at record speed.

Kinch and LeBeau hauled him to his feet. "I can walk," he protested, and shook them off. Kinch caught him before he hit the floor.

"Sure you can, Andrew," he said. Then he raised his voice. "Newkirk, we've got him. You can get out of there."

Newkirk exhaled sharply, and leaned back against the fallen earth, then staggered as it slid from under him. "Blimey, I was starting to think..."

"Yeah, I know," said Hogan quickly. "Come on, before anything else goes wrong."

He slid down from the ladder and ran for it, with Newkirk just behind him.

Outside, the compound was still practically deserted. Schultz remained guarding the disarmed bomb from what he considered a safe distance; any further away and he'd be outside the gate.

The sensible thing would be to stay indoors and wait for news.

"Recreation hall, Colonel?"

"Yep."

To avoid being seen, they went out the back window and stole between the other barracks till they reached their goal. By the time they got there, most of the rescue party had returned to the barracks by the same route. Only Kinch and LeBeau remained with Carter. He was sitting on the floor, Kinch supporting him with an arm around his shoulders, while LeBeau fussed around the pair of them.

"Carter, if you ever frighten us like that again..." Newkirk broke out.

"Take it easy, Newkirk. He's okay, or at least he will be," said Kinch.

"You sure?" Hogan was gazing keenly at Carter.

"I'm fine, sir. Honest." Carter looked up at him, then dropped his gaze to the floor. Any second now, someone was going to start in on him, for having got himself and the fake bomb stuck in the tunnel.

Nobody did. "Let's get back to the barracks," said Hogan. "Newkirk, LeBeau, you go first. Carter..."

_Okay, here it comes_, thought Carter, and braced himself.

The colonel regarded him gravely, then relaxed into a slow grin.

"Good job, Carter," he said.

It took Carter several seconds to take it in. He wasn't in trouble. Even better; he'd done something right.

Kinch spoke up. "Colonel, we may have a problem. I had a look while we were down there, and I'm surprised the whole centre of the yard hasn't already fallen in."

"Can we get in there and brace it?"

"I doubt it. It's likely to cave in any time now, and we'll have a hole twenty feet wide, right in front of the Kommandant's office. And that's going to take some explaining."

There was a thoughtful silence while they both tried to come up with a plausible way to account for the appearance of a crater in the centre of camp. The answer was obvious, but neither of them liked it.

With a sigh, Hogan turned to the explosives expert. "Carter, you know that bomb I just finished defusing...?"


End file.
